


Only Human

by OtterPot (orphan_account)



Category: British Actor RPF, Star Trek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eugenics War period, Eventual Smut, F/M, Multi chapter??, Romance, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-02-28 16:58:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2740058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/OtterPot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Eugenics War has raged for some time now; and one survivor is about to meet a very interesting person. Not that she isn't interesting herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not super familiar with details on the Eugenics War so this is pretty AU. Just for fun.

It was misty out; the great green expanse of the woods, blanketed in moss and fern, was soft with dew and cool fog rolling in from the mountains.

                Morgana had slowly been travelling farther north; the war had spread deep into Canada now, forcing her to seek the cold solitude and safety that was nearing the edge of the Arctic Circle. Weighed down with her pack and hatchets, she huffed as she climbed higher on the slope leading to the lowest peak she had been aiming for, for the last sixteen miles.

                She was tired.

                The Eugenics War – its name she learned when she crossed paths with refugees from America’s Midwest three weeks ago – was like a cancer. It started as speeches and ideas before mutating into a disgusting neo-genocidal mission. Morgana had met the Augments before, their forces that raged across the continents, and even the moderates that were created and populated the freshly conquered cities. She witnessed their cold arrogance, their haughty superiority; it was easy to accuse them of acting god-like, but Morgana thought otherwise.

                Their arrogance was a new form of indoctrination, in her opinion, stemming from the belief that one’s self-worth was derived only from their genetic engineering and borderline animalistic instincts. Those instincts, again, she had also met before.

                Hoisting herself over a fallen tree, boot sinking into the rotten wood, she reflected on that terrible memory.

_One of many,_ she thought to herself.

                Morgana had been on the run for only a week at that point; her skills at survival still fresh and untested. It was just across the Canadian border when she, and several others, fell under an Augment battalions’ radar; they were lusting for victory, for human death. Too many people died that day. The Augments fell upon them like thunder ripping through the sky during a storm, slaying men, women, and children, without pause. She escaped bloodied and terrified after pulling bodies of the freshly killed on herself and laying in the mud for what felt like hours.

                It was strange that now she hardly even thought of it. Even though the only company she truly had were her thoughts.

               

 

                His eyes never strayed, barely blinked, as the girl below his perch slowly made her way through the green.

                She was a wild looking thing. Dirty blonde, or just dirty, hair pulled in tight winding braids on the sides, tumbling in a thick mane down her back; her pants and jacket were smeared with dirt and grass stains, and her pack bulging with weight. He could see her eyes from his position, one a dark brown like the bark of a cedar, and one gun-metal blue.

_How incredibly_ human.

                It was curious that a human, let alone a human girl, would trek this far into the woods on her own and survive. She would soon see him through the bushes, if she ever chose to look up, but seemed too distracted and tired to be bothered with her surroundings. Khan stood slowly, rising on strong muscles once she reached a distance of thirty feet.

                He could see her better now, and definitely could see how tired she was. His lip curled in distaste – and interest? Even he couldn’t be sure. But she was the first interesting thing to catch his attention in months.

                The war had been progressing well; the inferiors – humans – were putting up a rather disappointing fight. Khan had been on tour in his most recent victories: Canada and Russia giving him and his people the land and resources they needed to have a secured victory across the globe. It wasn’t long before everything was as it should be. Khan let out a more forceful breath – almost laugh-like – as the girl stumbled in her footing before reaching a flat section of ground.

                She was fifteen feet from him now.

“Lost?”

                The word was smooth and the timbre of his voice seemed wretchedly out of place in the overwhelming flood of nature.

                The girl’s head rose slowly, as if she knew he was there all along, and met his eyes. _Unafraid,_ he mused, almost bored.

                Almost.

“Do I look lost?” She asked. A gentle and genuine voice, she had; like honey.

                Khan almost frowned. To think of a human positively was to show pity.

“There are no _humans_ here.” Khan stressed the word ‘human’ as he slowly turned his body towards her, his shoulders pulling back and chin rising.

                The girl showed no indication of being intimidated, or even bothered, despite having come so close to an Augment. Instead, she chewed her lip for a moment as if to buy herself time to decide what to do before she slung her pack off her shoulders. The two hatchets on her hips flashed with dew as she knelt and pulled a small package out of her bag.

“I’m not looking for any,” she said looking down as she unwrapped the bundle in her hands. “The forest is company enough.”

                Her hand moved quick as she tossed something to Khan, him catching it expertly and cocking a brow once he saw that it was food. Salted meat.

“It’s rabbit. Fresh, if you’re wondering.” She sat on the mound of a fern, the leaves sprouting from where she sat, oddly, making it look like the plant awaited her arrival to be used as a seat.

“I wasn’t.” Khan snapped, harsher than necessary.

                Her mouth tilted up in a grin before she took a bite of the meat herself.

“You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.” She spoke between chews, somehow still seeming delicate.

_Odd little human,_ Khan thought. He didn’t reply but lifted the rabbit to his nose, smelling it. It was certainly fresh, and oddly smelled rather nice despite him being used to the decadent catered meals at his new base of operations.

                Khan wondered idly if he should kill the girl; she didn’t look very concerned about that though, and rather seemed unconcerned about anything. She was far from civilization, even by Khans measure; she was dirty, but healthy, alone in the wild, but seemed at home. She was too comfortable with the woods.

                Too comfortable with him.

                He felt his fingers tense near the knife on his belt and noticed as she stole a glance at him.

“Oh sit down, at least let me eat before you kill me.” She laughed breathily, her vocals humming in her chest like tree-speech.

                Normally Khan would have been outraged by anyone ordering him. But this didn’t seem like an order; her tone made it more of an invitation, an extension of humor and kindness. Khan’s stubborn nature, however, refused to let his knees bend.

“Name.” He rumbled out before lifting the meat to his lips.

                The girl swallowed her bite before tilting her head at him, looking up in half lidded eyes, and giving a crooked smile before replying: “Morgana.” Her blonde trusses slid over the repelling material of her coat, hissing softly.

                Khan swallowed the bite of meat he had worked with his teeth; the pleasant flavor, fresh as she said, tasting more satisfying than his normal array of meals provided to ‘expand’ his palette. It was odd, he decided, that a human would seem so comfortable near him, enough so to offer him the gift of food.

“Are you going to tell me your name?” She asked as she turned to look over the expanse of wood that lay before them.

                Khan didn’t satisfy her with an answer and instead walked closer, crouched down on his haunches, and shot his hand out to grasp her jaw. She jerked, of course surprised, but didn’t fight his grip; she had finished her meat just before he grasped for her and met his eyes with gentle curiosity. Why wasn’t she afraid? Khan found it almost frustrating that she wasn’t even nervous and flexed his fingers to spread slowly to a grip on her throat.

                Morgana sat in silence and allowed his great hand passage along her throat; his stare was even, his cold eyes searching for something from her. A response, no doubt, as he gave her throat a testing squeeze. This pulled a light gasp from the girl, her pouty lips parting slightly, before she leaned into his grip.

                Now that surprised him. He gave another testing squeeze, harder this time, and still she leaned into him. Welcoming the possibility of death as easily as one would accept a kiss.

_A kiss,_ he frowned smartly, _you little nymph._

“If you’re going to kill me, don’t be so romantic about it.” Morgana chuffed with an easy smirk.

                Khan shoved her away quickly, repulsed that she had read him so easily; but had she? Morgana’s laugh was breathy and seemed to bounce through the trees and she righted her position on her plant throne. Khan’s snarl made her tilt her head; like a little forest creature, watching as the engineered Augment paced in agitated curiosity.

“I expect you to be afraid.” His statement seemed vaguely like an order to Morgana, but she paid it no mind.

“Expectations are silly things to have these days,” she shrugged.

                Khan returned to a crouch next to her, leaning in as if to cage her to the earth with his imposing nature. With a cold sneer he rumbled: “Like your expectation that your people will survive?”

                Morgana’s eyes flickered, something foreign passing quickly before it vanished; twisting to face him and closing more of the short distance between them, they could smell each other now. Morgana’s scent suited her, Khan decided; earthy, dewy, she was like rain and wet earth. His nostrils flared as his nose filled with her, and noticed Morgana paid close attention to the tick. She could smell him too, though. Cold and spicy, not at all the scent of a man who had been in the woods for long.

_So he has a place that’s close,_ she thought.

                Morgana let out a sigh before replying: “Everyone dies eventually. Even you will die someday.”

                Khan almost flinched back, the verbal confirmation that one day his reign would end repulsing him, offending him, more than just the fact a human even had the audacity to speak to him so casually. He watched her closely as she turned from him and grabbed her pack, pulling it to her side as if to prepare to stand. But she turned to him again, leaning back as she realized he was closer than before.

“And when everyone dies the world will be right again.” She said.

                Khan gave a twisted grin, his white teeth flashing dangerously as he leaned close enough to touch his nose to her hairline, brushing it gently. He felt her twitch beneath him and chuckled and found himself truly intrigued by this little human.

                She was unafraid of death because she knew it would come for her someday; she was unafraid of him, for some ridiculous reason, and she spoke with words wizened by an age of war.

“You should run, little nymph,” he tilted his chin down to meet her eyes, hot breath washing over her face, “before I eat you.”

                Morgana’s gaze wavered before she scrambled off her fern and hoisting her pack up and taking off into the woods. Khan watched in rapt interest as she ran, her eyes looking over her shoulder only once before an outcropping of thick bushes swallowed her up.

                She was smiling.

 

 


	2. 2

                Khan couldn’t stop thinking about that stupid little nymph. He was infuriated and spent the last four days stalking the halls of the Canadian outpost, and his officers have begun to notice.

                It wasn’t odd for Augments to seek release with others; and Khan was no exception. But even the thought of touching a female Augment made him feel uneasy. He kept remembering the feeling of the nymph’s hot throat, her two tone eyes. Khan snorted; what was he, a doe eyed adolescent mooning over a mysterious little girl? It angered him more than anything to still even be thinking about her, let alone wanting his fingers to wrap around her throat again. And when she leaned in… he wanted more than to squeeze her soft skin.

                He wanted to crush her, he decided, as he stormed out of the facility hell bent on finding peace from that despicable human. How dare she intrude on his mind; her stupid wild hair, her stupid pouty lips, and stupid _human_ eyes. Khan snarled as he took off into the thickened woods, wanting to pull the fresh air deep as he ran. It had been a long time since he actually got to use his gifted muscles – or even fought in his own war.

                Khan’s long legs ate up the earth beneath him, pushing him deep into the woods; the moss grew thicker here, nature’s own carpet he was once told, and the trees blotted out the gray of the sky with their fluffy branches. It was hours, it seemed, before he slowed; he stood beneath the trees, irritated, angry, and worst of all lusting after a ridiculous human. But the sounds of the forest were helping. The whispering of the trees, wet plops of dew and the… soft crunch of boots?

“Well, hello.” Came the soft voice.

                Khan turned, his chest puffing at his luck, and he drank in the sight of his nymph. _His nymph_.

                Morgana stepped out from among the ferns, a fresh navy jacket on under her pack, he noticed, and a coy grin on her face. Her skin and hair looked freshly washed, her eyes sparkling in the dimming light. But Khan snarled and strode quick until he was just an inch from her and he stared at the one thing on her that made him more furious than the fact that she had been invading his thoughts for the last four days.

                She had a black eye; purple and green bruising surrounding her one brown orb and violet spots dotted along her cheekbone. She was a good head and a half shorter than Khan, how he liked it, and she stared up at him.

“What is _this?_ ” His growled, pouring his anger and ferocity all over her.

                Morgana attempted a step back but Khan grasped her by the coat, holding on tight, and dragged her closer to his chest. His nymph chewed her lip and glanced away for a moment.

“Just a little bruise.”

                She shrugged and Khan gnashed his teeth and wrapped one hand around her throat; her eyes suddenly went glossy and pressed her throat in to his grip again. But this time, there were no testing squeezes. He tightened his hold as he ripped her pack from her shoulders, backed her up to a tree, and bent his head to place his mouth just over hers. _Not a kiss,_ he told himself, his lips barely grazing hers but he breathed in her air. The sharing of their breaths, _her trust_ in Khan, that he wouldn’t actually choke the life from her was strange to process.

                Even more so for Morgana; the warmth that sprung in her belly when she watched him running through the woods seemed to bring a permanent half smile to her lips. She wasn’t afraid of this Augment, no matter how hard he seemed to try – or not try, she wasn’t sure – to scare her. She trembled beneath the hand at her throat, his grip sure, and lifted on her toes just slightly, applying more pressure to her throat as she just barely touched her teeth to the silk of his bottom lip. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since he told her he would eat her. _With that mouth,_ she nearly sighed to herself.

                Her Augment’s fingers flexed harder making her breath stutter but not halt.

“Did you miss me, Augment?” she teased softly as she pressed forward, and Khan forced himself not to throttle her and fuck her.

_Infuriating creature!_ He roared in his head.

“My name,” he took a deep breath, “is Khan.”

                The drop in his voice and familiarity of his name had Morgana’s eyes open wide; staring at each other with nothing but the breath between them, the nymph lowered her heels and pressed her weight into the tree behind her.

“Khan.” She tested the sharp tone of his name on her tongue, and _God_ , he couldn’t stop himself.

                His lips slammed down on her mouth, hot tongue pushing against her lips before taking control of her mouth for his own purpose. His big hands tearing at her coat, ripping it from her and shoving aside the fabric of her shirt to feel her hot skin. He tasted rain on her; tasted it and felt the rush of blood to his groin so quick and painfully arousing he groaned loud into the kiss.

_Control_ , he urged himself, but didn’t listen.

                Morgana mewled as his mouth bruised her before he was yanking away with a wet smack. She opened her eyes, not realizing they had closed, to find his gaze scalding her, anger clear in the icy depth of his irises.

“Who touched you?” he growled.

                For a moment Morgana was lost for words, confused, before she said, “Just a man.” And that was something Khan did not want to hear.

“Why?” He snarled, digging his fingers in to her waist and burying his face at her throat.

                Khan breathed her in deep, pulling her close; enraged by the fact that someone had dared to touch his nymph. To _wound_ her.

“Uh,” Morgana gasped, “He attacked me. I don’t know why,” she shook as Khan began sucking possessively at her throat. “It’s just a bruise, it’s all I got.”

                Pulling back suddenly, Khan levelled his eyes with hers. “What did he get?” Khan watched as a wistful smirk spread over her pink lips and she nipped at his chin before replying.

“He got my axe in his skull for touching me.”

                As the words left her mouth Khan felt a very real shiver attempt to spread down his spine; oh, this nymph was dangerous, no doubt about that. Her whimsical, woodsy appearance didn’t betray even a hint of what lay beneath. Khan ventured to guess that she may be far wilder than he first assumed. He gave her a ferocious grin before delving his mouth back to her throat, basking in her breathy moan as he licked at the veins pulsing beneath her flesh. A wild and dangerous human; not something he was ashamed of, and now he found a means to justify his obsession. He ran his teeth over the skin he had been worrying and let out a frosty chuckle.

“What a good girl,” he praised, “my good girl.”

                He felt her tense and was unprepared for what she did next. With a strength he didn’t know a human could possess he was forced back several paces with a brutal shove; the face of his nymph greeting him with a horrible sneer. Anger coursed through him, replacing the arousal quickly.

_How dare she,_ he seethed and made to step forward.

“I am NOT your girl!” She roared at him.

                Her heterochromatic eyes flashed with white hot fury and her lips peeled back from her teeth the same way a lioness would do. Khan stood still, unsure if this display was foolish human defiance or something far different. But she had _shoved_ him; no human would have been capable of that.

“Aren’t you, now?” His silver words fell heavy into the electrified air.

“No.” She hissed, stepping up to his face and meeting his eyes, managing to look a wild creature despite their height differences.

“I am not _yours_. I am not anyone’s. I belong to myself and I will _live_ and _die_ belonging to myself only.”

                Khan searched her eyes, wanting to come up with a logical result to her ferocity and strength; her bruised eye proved she was human, but her animalistic emotional display spoke otherwise. How could she not be afraid of him, shove him, make him second guess his analyses?

“You silly human,” he began, but Morgana let out a roar as the words passed his lips.

“Demean me again and I will lay my axe into you!”

_Enough!_

Khan’s hand shot out and crashed into the side of her head sending her several feet to the side, tumbling into plants and breaking branches. But she rolled up, swaying only slightly, and rounding on him with her axe suddenly in hand; Khan didn’t recall noticing her grasping for it. In fact he didn’t remember her axe even being _on her_. He paused and eyed her; would she really attempt to kill him? Kill Khan?

_Laughable_ , his lips twisted away from his teeth as he advanced on her.

                Before he made three steps, the axe was flying at his face and passed just an inch away from his cheek as he twisted to avoid it. With a shout he turned back to strike the insolent nymph…

                But she was gone. No rustle of leaves, no sound at all; just her scent wafting in the air, taunting him at his failed attempt to catch the creature that held his superior attention.

                Khan roared into the empty wood, fury and confusion clouding his senses; no one defied him, let alone _attacked_ him! With nostrils flaring he went to retrieve the axe she had hurled at him.

_I will have her._

                Khan would not be assuaged, and nor would he rest till she was his.

_Run little nymph. I’m coming to eat you._

 


	3. Chapter 3

                Morgana’s fury had not waned, though it had been nearly a week – not that her attraction for that despicable Augment had waned, either. She felt mad with fascination, anger, and every form of curiosity she had ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Khan acted like he could own her, could own her pleasure; no one owned her.

                Since the war had begun she belonged to herself; she had no family to belong to – at least not anymore – no friends, no home. Any sense of ownership that reigned over her came from the forest, from nature. She knew how to survive in the forest whether it was spring or deep winter. She would survive. And while Morgana would have hiked her way as far from that confounded Khan, she hadn’t done so. In fact, she followed him to the base; his home. So she spied on him and his people; watching the arrivals and departures of all those so called _superior_ beings and learning their mannerisms.

                Morgana shifted on her perch in her tree she had climbed several nights before, waiting patiently for the next time Khan left his hovel. For such a haughty creature, Khan was very cautious since their last interaction. She could see him when he paced in the courtyard, the main grounds, everywhere, his sharp eyes searching determinedly for something.

_Most likely me,_ she thought.

                But today Khan had stayed close to the gates of his facility, welcoming new Augments as a figurehead of war should.

                She was pulled from her thoughts when she heard the chatter of voices below her, a great fall below, and she carefully leaned to get a look. Six Augments, and from the volume of their conversation, bordering on an argument. She watched them cautiously, her fine hairs now standing on end, when two of them began shoving at one another, snarling like beasts.

_Uh oh,_ Morgana squinted before turning to look at Khan once more. The noise had gotten his attention too and, as he waved two guards to him, began to stalk towards the commotion.

                But before Morgana could look down again a terrible shriek echoed in the woods and a white blinding light filled Morgana’s vision. The sudden shift in gravity was all she felt before a series of impacts, the branches of the tree breaking her downward spiral, and her ears were filled with a high pitched ringing. In a matter of seconds, or hours, she came to a halt; the burning bright world spinning in her vision as she lay on her back unable to breathe from the shock. The ringing persisted but her sight began to morph; the lights taking shape, color bleeding through, and she was able to see a head of dark hair, frosty skin, hanging over her. What was that? She felt locked in her own body, trapped, as if frozen in unchanging sensation. But not for long.

                The looming figure then covered her vision and forced the most terrible pain to course through her chest; air, fiery, painful air, filled her lungs and stretched her broken feeling ribs to accept the space. With a disgusting lurch she rolled onto her sides, retching and gasping, her head pounding as new sounds met her ears. And there were hands on her; strong hands forcing the contents of her stomach up and her hair away from her face.

_Run,_ she begged her legs to obey, _run, run run!_

                And she struggled to do so; ignoring the acid in her mouth and hands on her back she scrambled up and made a pathetic attempt to flee. But standing was a poor choice, she realized, as darkness dragged her down, the pain in her chest and head not easing.

  _Damn._

 

 

                Khan was still as a statue, poised to enter the healing room once the door opened. He had been surprised when he saw the commotion in the outer grounds, and both shocked and angry that one of their own had pulled out a phaser against the other. But he was nearly horrified when the shot sounded, spiraling up into a tall pine, exploding, and then the body that fell from the branches before slamming into the ground with a terrible thud.

                His nymph, he gasped in terror, was splayed out on her back her beautiful eyes glazed over from shock and blood covering half of her face.

_Beautiful?_ He hadn’t realized that was how he saw her.

                Khan felt sick remembering how he tried to wake her; she wasn’t breathing, and a fall from that height should have killed her. There was no doubt about that; her back should have broken and skull should have cracked, and the part of him that still believed she was human, prepared him for the conformation of her death. But he couldn’t resist his last act of kindness, his forcing the air into her lungs with his own. It was a blessing that she choked on that air, fought it and found the strength in her own muscles to pull air in, no matter how painful it must have felt. He knew humans were fragile.

                But she wasn’t.

                She struggled to move, almost succeeding in escaping from him again, and even made it to her feet before she fainted.

_A blessing indeed._ He snarled to himself. He was so furious with those fools who caused this, he had them locked in the detention center until further notice. And while he drew curious and questioning gazes as he carried her body to the healing center in a flurry of anger, no one dared to question him.

                Khan started as the door quietly swished open and he immediately stalked in, his eyes landing on Morgana as she lay restrained on the medical bed, a thin minty green gown replaced her clothing. He reached her side and stood over her, somehow wishing his very presence would swallow her up to keep her safe. His mind had been sick to see her since last week.

“My Lord,” the Doctor began, “She will be fine.”

“The damage?” Khan’s voice was clipped and harsh.

                With a quick breath, the Doctor began. “She suffered several fractures to her ribs, some bruising to the brain, and multiple hairline fractures on the back of her skull.”

_Those damned fools!_ Khan growled and clenched his fists.

“All of which,” the Doctor continued, “are healing rather quickly.”

                Khan’s eyes swiveled to land on the Doctor. “How quickly?” His suspicion was tickled; could she really be inhuman?

“Only twenty percent slower than the average Augment.”

                Khan felt his lungs deflate. That quickly? He looked back down at Morgana, the green fitting her skin but lacking the deserved chromatic intensity like the forest. She deserved the green of the forest, he frowned. But she healed so fast, what was she?

“I’ve taken a couple blood samples, as well as some hair. Once the test is finished you will be the first to see the results.”

                Khan nodded and waved him away, but he turned back to Khan just before he left the room.

“I’ve never seen anything like it, My Lord. She is a mystery.”

                Khan ignored him, but agreed nonetheless. With her eyes closed she looked relaxed; the harshness of her eyes that he remembered so well was gone and the supple wealth of her cheeks – despite having been living off a diet of the woods – made her look heavenly. Delicious, even. Her brownish hair, striped with gold and platinum, spilled out over her shoulders and hung slightly off the bed.

                His nymph was here, finally. He wouldn’t release her, wouldn’t lose her; and vaguely he wondered what it would be like if she were to have children with him. For her to hold a small golden haired, frosty eyed, nymph. He was glad she wasn’t human; glad that the idea of her clinging to some inane sense of humanity would no longer hold him back from claiming her. Khan smirked, almost embarrassed at the speed of his thoughts. He would have to wait till she awoke.

                After all, it is considered impolite to claim a creature while they lay unaware.


	4. Chapter 4

 

                Morgana’s first twitch of her fingers had her groaning; everything hurt. Her eyes were still closed and she could hear the faint mechanical flicker of electric lights. _Not good,_ she decided and she parted her lips for deeper breaths into her aching lungs. As she slowly peeled open her eyes, the light seemed too unnatural and borderline repulsed her; it took several more minutes of opening and closing before she could actually see around the room, though there wasn’t much for her to see. A white curtain separated her from the rest of the space and Morgana snarled with what she realized next. She was in Khan’s facility, and with a shake of her wrists, also restrained.

 _God damn him!_ She was spitting angry despite the horrible ache in her body and gave several harsh, and unwise, yanks on her wrists only to realize her eyes were weeping. Her anger and frustration and especially her fear of being trapped began to constrict her consciousness, each fighting for control. With a couple stuttering breaths, she lay back to try and rest. There was no point in fighting or doing anything at the moment. All she could do was wait.

                Though after what felt like hours, she was growing more and more agitated by the second, her brows pinching as her temper flared. How the hell did she end up like this? She thrived in the forest better than she did in structured society; her talents appreciated by fellow predators enough that not even the wolves wouldn’t dare to hunt her. With another snarl and she yanked hard on her binds and nearly gasped when the curtain swung open.

 

 

                Khan had been rushing himself back to the Healing Rooms once he finished reprimanding the fools who had caused the commotion; he was barely able to keep from snapping their necks, as it turns out it was all a lovers dispute gone wrong. Khan’s brooding earned him many nervous glances from his comrades, but he hardly paid them notice.

                He was too focused on returning to Morgana’s side; he wanted to be near her, feel her warm, smooth lips… Khan shook himself as he rounded the corner to her door and slipped inside, quiet as a panther. He heard her sharp breathing from the other side of the curtain and turned to set the lock on the door. His nymph let out a snarl and the clank of her binds pulling tight met his ears. He grinned, almost shark-like, before pulling away the white veil that kept her from him.

                The second they laid eyes upon each other was the second Khan realized two things: one, Morgana looked spitting mad. Murderous, even. And two, Khan decided he would fuck her. Soon. The passion in her eyes, the snarl that flashed her pearly teeth, he knew he had to have her.

“You tube grown abomination!” She roared at him.

 _Now that won’t do._ Khan chuckled down at her once he reached her side.

“Such words from that mouth of yours.” He chided.

“Release me.”

                Her voice was stern enough that Khan could have actually considered it an order; but no one ordered him.

“I told you to run, my nymph. Seems you didn’t make it far.”     

                Morgana wanted to rip his throat out and kiss him with blood on her tongue.

“I will not be a captive here.” Her words were hard as iron.

                Khan watched her as he made his slow advance, not even trying to hide his obvious appraisal of her position; he licked his lips as he watched the minty gown shift over her collarbones and the blankets fall away as she shuffled her legs in agitation.

                Without speaking, Khan loomed over her, hungry in his want to memorize the feel of her flesh; the warmth of it. He dragged his hand up and into her hair, pulling the braids tight in his fist as he lowered his nose to her throat. Oh, the smell of her; earth and wood and rain. His eyes fluttered momentarily and Morgana grew stiff in his hold. Neither one of them afraid of the other, his nymph made to yank her head away only to be held fast.

“Khan.” She hissed his name before he lay his mouth upon her open throat. His teeth worried her flesh and sucked her hot blood to the surface; the pleasure of it made Morgana arch up, despite her boiling rage, and press herself into his luscious mouth.

                She hated him; she wanted him.

“Why are you special?” He asked against her skin. “Why?”

                Morgana could only gasp in response as he continued to nibble her throat; her fingers itched to reach for him, his dark locks tumbling out of place. She longed to run her hands through them, to feel him press closer to her. While she was no fool, she also knew there was no point in denying herself what she wanted. She thrashed for a moment and forced her mouth under his, their lips meeting in an angry dance. The second his hard teeth nipped her, she breathed her orders into his mouth:

“Touch me, Khan.”

                Her demands were enough; Khan didn’t care if it was an order. She wanted his touch, his attention, and she didn’t care about her petty human ego. _Human._ The word didn’t suit her now; there was no way he could think of her as human anymore. With the blood rushing in his veins, he thrust his free hand beneath her gown and cupped her mound. Morgana arched again, grinding down into his hand and sucking his lower lip. Damn it _all,_ she wanted to touch him.

                Khan let out a low groan as his fingers began to explore her; his two longest digits delved into the hot nectar of her cunt, pressing deep before pulling her slick pleasure up and circling her clit. His nymph squealed and squirmed, and he couldn’t resist a full throated laugh; she didn’t care at all for her ego, her pride, she was completely unconcerned with how Khan thought of her. She only wanted her pleasure at Khan’s hand. And she would have it. Morgana gasped open mouthed; it had been so long since anyone had touched her. So long since she felt her blood on fire, or whatever this was.

                But she wasn’t on fire; she was gone. So far gone in her pleasure she didn’t care that Khan had stopped kissing her. She was far astray among the stars she watched every night; the roiling heat in her core begging for release as her augment pumped his long fingers in her. Khan watched his nymph arch and mewl, her panting forcing her supple breasts up and against the minty gown, and he could feel his cock strain against his trousers. The sparks that sprang behind her eyelids were too bright; Khans touch was too hot and they could both feel the flutters of her orgasm beginning. Khan gnashed his teeth as he watched her; her eyes screwed shut, mouth open with her head thrown back, and hips matching the pumps of his soaked fingers.

“Are you going to cum on my hand, little nymph?” Khan’s baritone vibrated through his hand and he felt his nymph clench for a moment.

“Cum on my hand,” he snarled as she struggled for breath, “cum hard.”

                With a shriek, Morgana tensed, her legs and toes curling towards her chest but Khan forced them down with his other hand that was no longer wrapped in her hair. His cocked throbbed as he felt her cunt clamp down on his still pumping fingers; the throb of her own muscles suddenly bringing her back to the earth as she wailed and thrashed beneath his hand.

“Come on now, scream louder!” Khan roared at her.

                Morgana couldn’t even breathe as he continued thrusting his fingers deep in her, hitting her g-spot over and over as she clenched and spilled her hot pleasure. Her cries now came from the bottom of her lungs and it _burned_ with how hard she was cumming. But Khan wouldn’t stop; he gave her no room to breathe, to catch up to him. As soon as the knot her belly exploded another formed so quick that her back bowed off the bed as she finally filled her lungs; the supernova that now was her core exploding with a celestial tingle in every muscle; wave after wave came as she came hard on her augments fingers, and finally, she screamed and thrashed while Khan fought her down. The one hand he didn’t have buried in her cunt left her hip and wrapped around her throat to raise her head, her hot breath fanning his face as he levelled himself with her.

“Open your eyes.” He snarled.

                And when she did, oh God, Khan wanted to cum in his pants at the gloss in her eyes; her plump lips gaped wide while her breath was withheld from her, and she tensed once more. Morgana couldn’t even think; she couldn’t touch him in return, pull him into her or kiss him or kill him. She could do nothing but cum beneath his fingers, which now began to slow.

“You. Are. Mine.”

                His breath warmed her lips before he claimed them as well. The kiss was quick and made his point abundantly clear; she had made a mistake. She let him touch her, yes, but she also let him see what he could do with her, and how she would reward him. Another gentle burning orgasm rolled through her and she sighed deep with this final release. She was dizzy and Khan was hard as stone for her; Khan had her now. He knew he could make her submit anytime, anywhere, as long as he kept her thirsting for this. And thirst she would.

                Morgana finally regained control over her lungs, but the residual clenching of her muscles made her whimper. Khan grinned, feral in his glee, and slowly pulled his fingers from her. Looking down, he could see the cedar colored locks that guarded her cunt and he watched in rapt fascination as he pulled his dripping fingers to his mouth. He did it so slow that he knew Morgana was watching, and groaned deep in his chest. Her taste exploded on his tongue; she was spicy like pepper at first before her taste melted into fire and smoke. He thought he was going to die – never had he ever enjoyed the taste of a woman this much before. His eyes rolled and he sucked his fingers till there was nothing left to taste; he would never let her go.

“My little nymph,” he sighed as he turned his eyes to look at her once more. “I do hope you’re not too tired.”

                Khan grinned salaciously and kissed Morgana full on the mouth, forcing his tongue past her labored breath so it would dance with hers. She tasted herself on him, and to her delight – or shame, she couldn’t decide – felt herself want for his cock and more of his fiery torture.

                Khan pulled back before he spoke gently to her, as if she would scare: “You will never be free of me now.”

                Morgana shut her eyes and turned her head, still too drunk from her pleasure to even reply. But Khan steadily gripped her chin and pulled her face to his, and taking this cue, she opened her eyes again.

“Do not look away from me again.” Khan licked her bottom lip. “I will enjoy filling you with my seed, each and every night.”

                Morgana winced at the sudden thought and shook herself, begging internally for her anger to rise again, only to begin swelling with a cold fear.

“I can’t stay here Khan. You have no idea what will happen if I do.”

                Khan sneered at her now and squeezed her chin sharply.

“You will not argue with me. I will fuck you and please you and you will remain here with me.”

“Until you tire of me,” Morgana breathed. “Then you _will_ let me return to the forest.”

“Oh no, I will not tire of you. I will keep you.”

                His nymph was finally showing fear. She feared a cage to keep her from the woods she coveted so deeply; well, it will be a trying transition for her, he knew that now. She didn’t want to be trapped; but like all wild things, eventually, they come to terms with their captivity.

“Khan, you have no idea what you’re dealing with.” She breathed desperately and suddenly felt uncomfortable with the wetness between her thighs.

“Do not assume that I will be baited by your meager threats.” He barked as he stood tall again.

“They’re not threats!” she snapped, “I’m trying to make you understand. I can’t be kept here; this facility won’t keep me safe or keep me happy.”

                Her augment narrowed his eyes; she wasn’t afraid of being trapped by him. Something in this facility made her uneasy.

“What is it you fear?”

                Morgana tensed noticeably and flexed her wrists against her bonds as if to beg for thinking space while her eyes regained their hard confidence.

“I don’t fear anything; but I certainly won’t allow you to keep me here.”

                Khan sniffed; she was lying, clearly, but he was beginning to understand that she was not so inferior as to be weak minded and open with him. She had the physical strength of something more than human; her appearance, while so utterly human, was near flawless in its composition. The bruises she sustained from the fall were now pink splotches, and he remembered the black eye she hosted at their last meeting. It was gone as well. She had all the mannerisms of an augment.

                He blanched suddenly, his train of thought disturbing him and Morgana’s eyes flickered as if she could tell what he was thinking. Could she be an augment? No, she bruised too easily. Was she a half-breed of some kind? The wheels in his head were turning as he and his nymph stared each other down. He would have plenty of time to figure her out; that was for sure.

                She would not be leaving him. Ever.

                A knock on the door to the room pulled Khan out of his thoughts. With another once over of his nymph – her post orgasmic hair and glow to her skin making her look illustrious – Khan left her side to open the door.

 

 

 


End file.
